Going To The Dogs

 

                        Going To The Dogs

                                

     I grew up having dogs around the house, don't ask me why we had dogs or pets at all, with five kids to feed a pet seemed like a big expense although back then we pretty much fed them table scraps and seldom took them to a vet. I don't remember that any of us kids thought much of the dogs, they were full of fleas, matted fur and sometimes didn't smell to good, just the same they were a part of the family. I remember there were Beagles and Cocker Spaniels and Grandpa Riggan had a Collie named Shep.
     Then I met Linda, fell in love and married her but not until we got a few things straightened out about our future. You see, Linda was an animal lover and had there been prenuptials  back in 1967  I would have been contractually bound to always have a pet, more specifically a dog, as part of the family and should a divorce ever occur she would have gotten sole custody. As things turned out I liked dogs, they could be a pain in the butt but it did feel good to have a warm wet nose snuggle against your hand as you watched TV which was better than Linda's cold feet in the small of your back in the middle of the night - foot warming was another contractual item.
     Our first dog was named " Bo ", he was a beautiful half Boxer and half German Shepard and he belonged to an aging first class Boatswain Mate I worked with hence the name Bo. Bo was smart and learned quickly, we took him with us when Linda went to stay with my family while I went to Vietnam. Dad was over having dogs by this time but for his only daughter-in-law he made an exception and welcomed Bo into the family and provided him with one of his beloved Navy blankets from WWII to sleep on in the garage. When I returned from my first trip to Vietnam we couldn't take Bo with us to San Diego so we left him behind. Bo was given to a local farmer who allowed him to run free rather than stay chained to a dog house, by the time we came home for good someone had stolen Bo from the farmer.
     While stationed in San Diego the second time we were given a small white terrier who turned out to be vindictive whenever left alone or ignored and after finding several articles of clothing, a blanket and several bags of garbage shredded all over the floor he was out of there real quick, so quick that I can't even remember his name.
     Now we get back to Tennessee and start life anew. My cousin Jackie called one night and told Linda that a friend of hers had a dog who had given birth to a small brood of which there were three available for the taking. The dogs were Poodle and Cocker Spaniel ( Cockerpoo ) and black as the ace of spades. Jackie took the lone female pup, Linda and I took one of the males and lo and behold my Dad took the other. We named ours Snoopy and Dad named theirs Ralf.
      We had to keep Snoopy chained to a dog house for a few months and during this time Linda's sister Eileen came to live with us and acquired a cat from my friend Donnie Odum. Linda couldn't stand the cat as it was sneaky and would rip a loaf of bread to shreds just for the hell of it so it wasn't long til the cat became an outside pet. It was cold that winter and I wondered where the cat went to keep warm over night, then one morning as I looked out a window I saw Snoopy come out of his house and stretch in the sun light, the cat followed a few moments later and sat next to the dog licking at it's paw. We found the cat dead in some bushes a few weeks later. Snoopy went with us to our old new home we bought, it had a nice yard with a fence and everything was great for a while til one day Snoopy was hit by a car while crossing the street in front of the house, he died as I tried to comfort him.
     We next wound up with Ralf, I think Dad felt sorry for Linda. Ralf quickly fit in with us and gave us much joy. One morning Linda suddenly started accusing me of kicking the covers off the bed at night  and she would wake up cold and have to retrieve them from the floor, being the sound sleeper that I was I had no defense. Turns out it was not me kicking the covers off of the bed, one sleepless night I felt the blanket slip down to the foot of the bed a little bit at a time then a little bit more, I woke Linda and told her quietly to watch as the cover slid towards the foot of the bed all by itself. We crawled down to the foot of the bed and watched as Ralf, who was laying on the floor, reached up and grabbed a mouthful of blanket and pulled it down on top of him.  Another time I came home and went downstairs for a cold drink we kept in the basement refrigerator, as I walked down the steps something crunched under my feet, under close inspection the crunches appeared to be small bits of red glass. All became clear later as I watched TV and Ralf wanted to play but I ignored him so he walked over to the Christmas tree and grabbed a red glass ornament from a low hanging branch then carried it over to the top of the stairs and tossed it into the air. Ralf stood there looking confused as the ball didn't bounce like the one I threw down the steps for him to fetch - mystery solved, Ralf had evidently found a way to amuse himself while we were at work.
     Like his brother Ralf died after being hit by a car.
     Next came a golden Cocker Spaniel with a pedigree so she was given a pedigree name - " Linda's Lady Ginger ", we called her Ginger and she never left Linda's side. When Ginger came into heat we bred her with another purebred, she had seven pups but not without some difficulty. She had two pups and then we had to take her to the vet where she had another, he gave her a shot to induce labor on the three he said were still inside her, on the way home Ginger gave birth to another pup in the front seat of the car. The vet told us to give her ice cream to calm her down, while lapping up the ice cream she dropped another pup but ignored it and kept eating, then Linda went up the steps to get towels to clean up the mess - Ginger followed her and dropped the final two pups on the way to the kitchen.
     Turns out Ginger was dumb and cuddly just the way Linda like them, we had her for several years  and shortly after Clay was born I was transferred to the west coast from Florida and we couldn't take her. I know it broke Linda's heart to have to take her to the pound.
     It was several years later when Danny was starting school that they decided we needed a dog so we got a Schnauzer, because of his coloring we called him Pepper. I can't say I knew Pepper that well as I traveled quite a bit back then, I do remember that he was a feisty little dog and would snap at you when irritated. Pepper came back to Georgia with us  but it seems as though everybody lost interest in him and he wound up in a pen in the back yard, it was still up to the kids to feed him - a chore which they had to be reminded often. One day Danny brought him up to the house for some reason and left him tied to the garage door, I climbed into my truck to go somewhere not realizing Pepper was under the truck and I ran over him, the vet couldn't save him. This was the time where I put my foot down and said no more.
     It was several years later when Danny and his first wife were living in the basement that they asked me if they could get a dog, I should have known better but I said sure as long as I was not going to take care of it. They got a rescue black Lab pup that was full of energy, they called him Bailey.Fortunately they moved into their own place and Bailey went with them.
     A couple of years after the kids moved out I brought home a parrot, more precisely a Sun Conyers from South America. While at work one night I was called over to the office area where several people were watching this bright orange and yellow bird walk around looking for food. He didn't seem to be afraid of us so I put my hand down and the bird walked up my arm and sat on my shoulder, I put him in a box and brought him home to Linda. It was three in the morning when I got home, I woke Linda and told her to come meet her new friend. The bird was still in the box on the floor, Linda opened it up and the bird cocked his head and looked up at her, when she placed her hand into the box the bird climbed up her arm and lost himself in her hair where he stayed the rest of the night. He was about twice the size of a canary and because of his coloration Linda named him Mango, she went out the next day and spent two hundred dollars on a cage and other bird paraphernalia.
     The kids were gone and I worked long weird hours and even when I was home I was was not really there if you know what I mean so Mango filled that void for Linda. Most of the time Mango had freedom of the house and wherever Linda went Mango went. I quickly found out I needed to close the door while shaving as Mango liked the taste of shaving cream and would sit on my shoulder eating mouthfuls as I shaved. Linda also found out she needed to close the door when taking a shower, Mango would fly into the shower landing at her feet and start bathing himself.  Linda sat on the couch in front of the picture window as she crocheted, Mango would fly down to the floor and walk over to the ball of yarn at her feet, after unraveling some of the yarn he would make his way to her foot and start climbing up to her shoulder where he would preen her hair or bite her shirt. She had several shirts that were her Mango shirts, they had holes in them where he had chewed thru with his sharp beak.
     Mango had one major flaw, he was LOUD, I'm telling you this bird screeched so loudly that neighbors  two doors down the street wondered what that noise was- and we kept the house closed up. His minor flaw was that he didn't like most other women and would attack them.
     When we moved to this house Mango stayed with Clay and when Linda brought him home he took sick and died, Linda was devastated.
     Not long after Mango died Linda came to me and wanted another dog, I was still working long hours and she needed the companionship. As much as I understood her needs I tried to talk her out of another dog, I had buried too many of them already. It didn't take her long to wear me down as truth be known I could never really say no to Linda, soon enough she was looking on the computer for a new face to love.
     Lizzy is a rescue dog, she was about a year old when we got her, she is part Lab and part Cocker Spaniel with long black hair and I swear she has the longest tongue I have ever seen, she is also known as Licking Lizzy as she licks at everybody who comes to visit. Although we only paid $50.00 for her she cost us just over $3000.00 because we had to install a fence and lay down sod in the back yard.  Given the opportunity she will escape her confines and go for a run, all of the calling will not stop her and when you get close she will just look at you and take off again, to catch her you have to get in the car find her and open the door she will come running as she loves to ride.
     Lizzy is definitely not the sharpest thorn in the brier patch, she will chase a thrown ball but only bring it back halfway but she loved to crawl up next to Linda and get her ear tickled or her butt scratched.
     Linda loved Lizzy and got to the place that she didn't want to take any trips if Lizzy couldn't go, Lizzy brought great comfort to Linda in her final days and knowing that she was concerned I promised Linda that I would take care of Lizzy.
     We loved our pets, each of them brought many moments of happiness and frequently absorbed the stress of daily life often with only the act of laying their chin on your thigh and looking up at you with a sadness in their eyes that only they can express. They are memories from a life that seems so long ago.
     So, here we are just Lizzy and I, each of us a reminder to the other of how much we loved and miss Linda. Lizzy is at least ten years old and I am sixty eight, it is even money as to which one of us will out last the other although we may find out soon enough if she continues to stop in front of me in the dark making me trip over her.

The Next Chapter

                                                 The Next Chapter





                                               Smile Because She Lived


                You can shed tears because she is gone
                       Or you can smile because she lived.
                       You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
                       Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left.

                       Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,
                       Or you can be full of the love you shared.
                       You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
                       Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

                       You can remember her and only that she is gone,
                       Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
                       You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn back,
                       Or you can do what she would want:

                       Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

                       Author unknown



     The above poem was one of several pieces given to those of us in my grief support group. It hopefully had the effect of encouraging us to move forward and be happy in our remembrance of our lost loved ones rather than continue with the grieving that most of us were still wrapped up in. This was six months after Linda had passed away and she was still deeply embedded in my thoughts, my mind was closed, I was empty and moving forward was out of the question.
     It has been a year since Linda passed away, I have endured holidays without her laughter, the birth of a grandson she longed to hold, her birthday and our anniversary without celebration. It has been a year of sadness and sorrow, self pity and longing, loneliness and darkness. Loneliness is the worst of all the feelings, she was not there to hold or talk with and why turn on the lights when there is only you in the house, in the darkness your vision is not blurred when you cry. Going forward seemed senseless when there was no longer a purpose, many times I shut myself away from the world around me and closed the door on friends and family.
     During this past year I shed more tears than any time in my life, all it took was a smell, sight or sound and the memories would turn loose the tide of emotions and flood of tears. I wanted to turn back the clock and have just one more day with Linda to hold her and tell her how much I loved her.
In the support group we talked about the day when we could invoke memories of our loved one and smile. It was never that memories of Linda were sad or unhappy, I have no sad memories of Linda, I have been sad because all I had left of her were the memories and that has not been enough.
     Without a doubt this past year has been the worst in my life, knowing that other people have walked in my shoes before me and many others will after me did not satisfy the feelings of grief. My survival took a lot of understanding, compassion and love from family and friends.
      I still couldn't move forward until I met with a group of people who were in as much anguish as I was.This group of strangers all had one thing in common, they grieved for someone they loved who had passed away. We shared our grief with each other and in doing so we helped each other. Our session was brief, only nine weeks, but it was intense and we became like a family, we still get together once a month and several of us have gone on outings together. We still grieve and probably will for years to come if not forever but now we know that we are not alone and have understanding friends.
     Like the poem says, I can cry and close my mind, be empty and turn back or I can do what Linda would want - smile, open my eyes, love and go on. Had the roles been reversed I would want Linda to move on and enjoy the rest of her life,I know this is what she wants for me. This is not to say that I have stopped grieving for her, I doubt I ever will but I am ready to smile again and rejoice in the life Linda and I had together, I still love and miss her, I am proud for having had the privilege of loving her.
     So today I am turning the page to the next chapter in my life, a chapter filled with family and friends - new and old, with old memories and making new ones. I am throwing out the thoughts and things that have stymied any growth for some time. A new chapter, I can only wonder what new things await me, where my new life will take me - I think I am ready.


                      











              

The Last Farewell

                      The Last Farewell

     I am on the road again, this time Linda is with me, her cremated remains next to me in the front seat. I am taking her to fulfill her final wish to have her remains scattered on Daytona Beach. This is a family affair that hopefully will bring some closure to us all so Danny, Marie,MJ and Matthew, Clay and Maggie, Vicki and Chelsea are also in route, Eileen's husband Ken will meet us there.
    It has been a long hard path we walked since the early part of 2012 when Linda having difficulty breathing was misdiagnosed with asthma and later discovered to have congestive heart disease, from that day forward our lives changed. Each episode that sent her to the hospital weakened her heart and robbed her of her life.
    One of our friends told her she was very brave for the way she was dealing with her plight and I can attest to just how bravely she fought to live. Inside I think she was afraid even though she told everyone she was ready to go, outside she continued to live as she always had, she sang her songs, laughed out loud, worked on her crochet projects and sought out the beauty of everyday life. She looked forward to the birth of her Grandchildren and made plans for the future. When her friends visited she refused to let them pity her and kept the conversation upbeat, expressions of sorrow and tears were not permitted. Yes she was brave, as brave as any soldier facing death on the battlefield. I, on the other hand, was in denial, this couldn't be happening to us, she will get better and grow old with me. If I focused on the positive then the outcome would be positive, but in reality, for the first time in my life I felt totally helpless. Linda put forth a brave face for the world to see right up to the day before she lapsed into a coma, I wore my brave face for her, never crying in front of her, always telling her things were going to be alright, for her I could do no less.
    Many times this past year I have cried deeply from my broken heart, I have felt as though I am only half of  a person, she was indeed my better half. This past year has been devastating, I tried coping in silence and when that failed I turned to strangers who were on the same path as me. I found out that sharing in the grief of others was a big help and in that sharing I was helping not only myself but others in the most difficult time of our lives.
    I have thought about this moment for some time knowing that I would want to write about it, what will I say, how will I feel. This trip was to be the final farewell, the closure I needed - a door was closing on my old life and another was opening on a new life without Linda. Certainly there have been times during the last almost four years that I have known this day would come though I did not want it to. I would rather that she still be by my side in person rather than in spirit, I would be happier if she would be sitting beside me singing with the radio than  listen to the silence of a box of ashes. Surprisingly I feel a sort of numbness, as I drive there are a few moments where I tear up and choke back a cry of despair. It is like all of the tears and pain of her loss for the last year have led up to this point, I had to grieve before I could let her go.
     When I arrived at the hotel the anxiety set in, on the one hand I was antsy and wanting to hurry things along. On the other hand scattering the ashes meant that she is gone forever living only in my heart and the memories of our life together, will that be enough to sustain me.
     I spent a lot of time thinking as I drove and again as I awaited for the time to wade into the waters. I wondered if I had truly been the best husband for her, did I do everything possible to make her happy, should I now ask her forgiveness for the times I let her down. I told myself that I did the best I could and then realized that I should have done better, she deserved better
     The time seemed to drag on, the others took the opportunity to make this trip a vacation  of sorts and do a little sight seeing and getting together with relatives. I tried to fit in as much as I could though at times I was flustered and probably seemed out of sorts with everyone. This was not a festive occasion for me and I think Ken may have had similar feelings as he brought some of Eileen's ashes to scatter with Linda's. In reality we all grieved in our own ways, the loss of both Linda and Eileen held different meaning to each of us and that is the way it should be.
     The time came and we all gathered on the sand. Linda and I were not religious in the traditional sense, she held God in her heart and spoke of her beliefs to very few, so I asked that everyone take a handful of ashes and say their goodbyes as they wished. For myself, I watched as the wind blew the ashes into the water and told Linda goodbye for the last time, I told her that I loved her and always will. I don't cry as much any more, I hate to think it may be that I am getting used to Linda being gone, but as the ashes flowed through my fingers I cried, not because I am used to her being gone but because I still miss her.
     I read somewhere that " death is that state in which one exist only in the memories of others ". Linda is a memory now as she has been for the last year, our life together is a jumble of memories floating in and out of my thoughts as they will for the rest of my life.
     This writing is to be the last about Linda and her struggles with death. It has taken almost a month for me to find the right words ( I hope they are right ) to say, they were hidden in the dark shadows of my mind and took quite a tussle to bring them to the light. In years to come our grandchildren, their children and grandchildren for many generations will hopefully read these words and know Linda and know how much I loved her.

                  Farewell my love.
   
 
   

A Tale Of Two Sisters

                                         A Tale Of Two Sisters

        " Sisters are different flowers of the same garden "
                                          Author Unknown

     Once upon a time there were two sisters, they were the best of friends but as different as night and day.
     One was a fun loving wild child who had a rebellious nature, carefree, talented, very opinionated and often quite loud, she had a singing voice to rival the angels. She was a beautiful 14 year old brunette, tall and slender - almost anorexic, with long dark hair hanging down her back.
     The older sister was 17, tall with long legs, shoulder length dark hair and eyes as blue as a summer sky. She was down to earth, loving, caring, selfless and gave freely her time and energy for the betterment of others, she touched the hearts and souls of all she encountered, she was wise beyond her years, the world is a better place because, for a time, she was a part of it.
     In the early years their parents relocated often and they had no time to make friends so they became best friends. It was this closeness that carried them thru life, whenever the pressures of the day weighed heavy on their hearts they would turn to each other, the solace of their friendship rejuvenated them, returning them to a childhood filled with happiness.
     Three years separated them in birth and many times thru the years they were separated by great distances but their hearts and minds always remained connected regardless the distance. They would talk on the telephone for hours when they were apart, when together they would burn the midnight oil staying up till the crack of dawn regaling each other with stories of their lives and memories of their past, the wild child would play her guitar as they sang songs in harmony between giggles and laughter, together they were ageless. Never were cross or condescending words spoken, never did one put down the other. When they met after a long separation their eyes would light up, their faces would glow, their hearts filled with joy. When they parted it was with sadness, tears and anticipation of the next encounter when a repetition of the last get together would take place.
     Their lives took different paths, the wild child took many years to settle down, to her despair the rebel in her lurked in the shadows and often showed itself. At times she seemed to struggle to keep herself pointed in the right direction but with the help of her older sister she always kept plugging away, never giving in to defeat. The older sister married, raised two handsome boys that were her pride and joy. She devoted herself to her family and friends. She touched the hearts of hundreds of people she never knew.  She thrived on beauty, laughter and happiness, that was the world in which she lived.
     Sadly it was the wild child that had to say goodbye to her older sister who passed away far to soon leaving behind grieving loved ones who missed her dearly. Though many felt the loss deeply the one who may have suffered the most was the wild child who took the passing hard, she could no longer turn to her sister to be lifted above the reality of life. Less than a year later the wild child passed away, quite possibly from a broken heart.
      Sibling love such as this usually exist only in fairy tales, born of magic potions, sprinkled with pixie dust and passed down thru the ages in folklore.
      This love did exist, it was as real as the air we breathe and I was both privileged and honored to have known and loved both of these sisters. The down to earth sister walked by my side for forty seven years, in marrying her I became the big brother to the wild child. Over many years I witnessed firsthand the love they had for each other and saw the heartbreak in their final parting. I feel their loss equally for they were embedded deeply in my life and my heart.
    
     " Between sisters, often, the child's cry never dies down. " Never leave me, " it says " Do not abandon me." "
                Louise Bernikow

                     Never in life did they abandon each other, neither will they do so in death.
                                                               In Loving Memory

               Linda Jean Dingman Riggan                                          Eileen Carol Dingman Foote
              
        March 30, 1949 - September 12, 2014                              January 11, 1952 - July 17, 2015


    

Back In The Day

                                                    Back In The Day


     Back in the day, when I was young and quite often foolish, I worked for a bank collecting past due debt from credit card accounts. I traveled all over middle and eastern Tennessee, southern Kentucky and northern Alabama and I did it before there was such things as GPS, map quest and cell phones. In my travels I encountered people of all walks of life and found myself in some rather strange situations from time to time.
     Back in the day, when you got away from the big city the post office had what they called "rural routes" instead of street addresses. Some of these rural routes would be well in excess of a hundred miles long, many of those miles would be on narrow dirt or gravel roads and run a circuitous route leaving the town on one road and returning on another. The only way to find someone living on a rural route was to go to the local post office, for a dollar the post master would give you directions .
     Quite often I was dealing with small town country folk who were nice enough people but they did take a little getting used too. Case in point - one day I was in a small town in Tennessee just above the north western Alabama line, I was looking for a guy who lived on one of the infamous rural routes. I stopped at the local post office and paid the post mistress a dollar for directions to this persons home and this is what I got;

     Post Mistress - "Now honey you just go down hea to the stop sign and turn left then go oh about four or five miles to the big oak"
     Me - "The big oak?" ( I said this with a look of confusion on my face).
     Post Mistress - "Now honey this is the biggest oak tree you have ever seen, you can't miss it, just turn left and go.........".

     So off I go looking for the biggest oak tree I had ever seen and having a 150 year old oak tree in my own back yard I was looking for a monster of a tree. I drove for miles and couldn't find anything that in my mind could be construed as a truly big oak tree so I turned around and went back to the post office.

     Me - "Mam I can't find a big oak tree as you described ".
     Post Mistress - "Oh honey you can't miss it, it's the biggest oak tree you have ever seen".
  
     Small town post offices often were places where the locals would gather to past the time chatting away about the weather, crops, the preacher's sermon or who was doing what to or with whom. It was about this time that an old guy, sitting in the corner listening to our conversation, decided to throw in his two cents worth.

     Old Guy - " Sue do you mean the old oak out by so and so's place"?
     Post Mistress - "Yeah I do".
     Old Guy - "Why they cut that tree down a few months back".

     Now the post mistress turns to me and says - " Now honey once you take a left at the stop sign you just keep going till you get to the big oak stump."
     All I can say is that judging by the stump it must have been one hell of a big oak tree.

                                                      __________________________

     Another day I was in a little town called Coalmont, Tn., It was about the same size as the aforementioned town which had at that time maybe 200 - 300 hundred people. I was looking for a guy whose name sounded something like Albert  J. Jackson or maybe it was John S. Smiley, it has been a long time ago.
     Any way I stop at the post Office and give the Post Master his dollar and told him I was looking for John Smiley.

     Post Master - "Well sir we have eight John Smileys living here, what is the route he lives on".
     Me- " Route four".
     Post Master - " well that narrows it down a might, there are five that live on route four, does he have a middle initial"?
     Me - "S"
     Post Master - " Well that cuts it down to three".

     To make a long story short, after divulging employers and names of wives it was discovered that the man I was looking for lived three doors down the street.

                                                          _________________________

     I was sent to work collections in the Florence, Al., I was given an account that had been a problem for sometime. The two previous collectors refused to work the account as the man they called on threatened to shoot them or beat them up. I decided to work the account just so I could say that I tried, it turned out that my results were no different than my predecessors.
     Back then the banks had what they called the "right of offset" meaning that if you owed the bank money and were behind on the payments and you had money in the bank the bank could take your money and apply it to your debt, they would notify you after the fact.
     Getting back to the story, later in the afternoon, after being threatened with bodily injury, I stopped by the bank and was going over the accounts with the manager when this account came up, I described my encounter with the debtor and the stories of my predecessors. The balance on the account was about $2000.00 and it was all past due. The managers secretary overheard our conversation and said the name was familiar so she got to digging around and found out he had a checking account with more than $8000.00 in it. The manager had the secretary make out a cashiers check for me for the entire amount of the debt owed, when I got back to the office a few days later I was treated like a conquering hero.
     When I returned to the bank about a month later I asked if there had been any repercussions from the debtor. The bank secretary said the debtor was in the bank about a week after being sent notice of the withdrawal from his checking account, he never said a word but did deposit money and left. In all other respects he was a good customer.

                                                      _______________________

     On the other side of the coin, there was this young family who lived in Stevenson, Al.. They were maybe in their early twenties but more likely in their late teens, they lived in an old wooden framed building that used to be a commercial building like a hardware store with a high wooden front porch and tin roof. There was no insulation and the big double door had a padlock for security.
     They owed about $400.00 and all of it was past due, the bank had already written off the account so that no interest would accrue but the young man was insistent that he pay his debt so once a month a collector would stop by and the young man would reach into the bib of the overalls and pull out a ten dollar bill while making polite conversation. While I was writing out a receipt the young man would stand there in bib overalls and well worn work boots and a baseball cap, his wife who looked to be maybe seventeen and very pretty stood shyly in the doorway holding a baby while two young boys less than four years old held tightly to her skirt - she was barefoot and about five months pregnant.
     As far as I know they never missed a payment.

      It never ceased to amaze me that those who had nothing were usually the ones who were most concerned about the money they owed and they always had something to give me, on the other hand I knocked on doors that were answered by maids and if the debtor was there and would talk to me at all he was usually belligerent and I walked away with nothing but an empty promise.


                                                 ___________________________
 
     One of the biggest challenges of a bill collector was to not get bit by a dog, I was bitten once and thank goodness the dog was old and only had one nub of a tooth left. I did on several occasions have  a run in with dogs.
     This one time I pulled into a long driveway stopping next to the house where a long sidewalk to the front porch met the driveway. I got out of the car and walked about sixty feet down the walk to the front porch and knocked on the front door, after no answer I started writing a note on the back of one of my business cards. As I was writing I heard a sound and looked around to see five Doberman Pincher dogs walking up on the front porch. They seemed to be friendly enough as they sniffed my shoes and pants and they were attentive as I talked to them. It wasn't until I tried to leave that they became a little unruly, now they started barking and blaring their teeth. They surrounded me on all sides and were between me and the car, as I moved they nipped at my pants leg, barked and growled menacingly. All I could do was to keep slowing moving toward the car and when I finally got to the car I made a notation on the file not to come back.

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     I became friends with a banker that was about the same age as me, he worked for a bank in the tri-cities area of eastern Tn., Bud was his name. Bud worked at a bank in Bristol which is a city on the state line with Virginia, the state line ran smack dab down the middle of main street.
     Bud liked to drink and have parties but selling alcohol in Bristol, Tn. was illegal but across the street in Bristol, Virginia was a liquor store. I found out that Bud used to buy the cheaper brands of liquor take them home and pour the booze into empty bottles of the more expensive brands, unless you were a connoisseur, which nobody was after a few drinks, you never knew the whiskey in the Makers Mark bottle was actually Old Crow.
     Bud and I went out to dinner one night and I got to telling him a story about a neighbor I had, I could tell stories back then just as easily as I do now. Now this neighbor was a pain in my butt and I was just getting a lot of frustration off my chest. Bud thought this was the funniest story he ever heard and nearly fell out of his chair from laughing so hard, the people around us were starting to get annoyed. I finished the story and Bud settled down then we parted for the night.
     The next day I met Bud at the bank and he told me he wanted to show me his fathers recording studio, turns out his father was a record producer for gospel groups and had a thriving business. I agreed to go with him that night. I met Buds father and toured the studio and we talked a while, then Buds father told me that Bud had told him the story about my neighbor and they both laughed till they cried. The jest of this get together came to light as the old man told me one of the things he had always wanted to do was to produce a comedy record album and he thought that I could be the next great comedian.
     I turned down the offer of fame and prosperity and now that I am supposedly older and wiser I wonder if maybe this was an opportunity missed, one of the great mistakes of my life. Just think of it, I could have been on the tonight show - as host !
    

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     I enjoyed my time at the bank, I enjoyed the travels and the people I encountered. Life in the seventies was different than today, back then you had a job to do and were given time to perform it without someone standing over you urging you to go faster. Most employees liked their jobs and held the company in high esteem, the company usually took care of it's employees and a life long bond existed between them. Many people retired from the one job they held for thirty plus years and were proud of it. By comparison we didn't make a lot of money but it seemed to go further. Linda and I were happy and had every thing we needed and most things we wanted.
     I can't say when the world turned into a fast paced race to the finish but it did. I guess as you get older it may be harder to see the future when the end is so close, so you tend to look backwards to what you know, to a place where you were happy and wonder where it all went. I can only hope that my sons will one day look back on happier times and reminisce with fond memories of the best days of their lives.
































































 

Father's Day Memories

                                    Father's Day Memories




     " From the darkness of despair a child's laughter brightens the day."
         Mike Riggan


     I have been living in a dark place for a long time now. I wallowed in sadness, anger, self pity and many other maladies associated with grief. What has kept me going is the love of my family and support of my friends, I have to wonder where I would be without them.
     The one person who has been my most staunch supporter doesn't even know what she has done for me because of her youth and innocence. Every time I see her she lights up my life with her smile and I can't wait to pick her up and hold her in my arms, it is these times that I know my life has been a success. When leaving her the darkness slowly creeps back. Of course I am talking about my Granddaughter - Michaela Judy Riggan, MJ for short. I love this little girl more than life.
     Many months ago I started picking her up and taking her out for the day, just the two of us. We went to parks and I watched as she walked around soaking in all of the sights and sounds that were new to her, sometimes we just went to my place and I would watch her play.
     Today was Fathers Day - June 21, 2015, and it was just as special as any day that I can spend with her. Her father, Danny, had made plans with me that we should take MJ fishing for the first time. I wasn't so sure that this would work out because she is only 2 1/2 yrs. old but it was a time for which I have been waiting. My sister Vickie had bought her a fishing rod a long time ago and I recently bought her a life jacket for riding on my boat.
     When I arrived to pick them up MJ was sitting in her chair eating and watching fishing shows with her Dad. When she heard me coming in the room she looked up as she always does with a big smile on her face and when I freed her from the chair she came into my arms and I got my hug. She was eager to go.
     When we got to the lake she was scared by the sound of the motor being raised and had to be held by her Dada until he could calm her down. She wasn't to sure about the moving boat so I took things slow and easy at first. We stopped at the first fishing spot and I held her in my lap as I worked the trolling motor to guide us into a place I thought might hold a Bream or two,.She pointed at different things on the bank that I had seen hundreds of times but she was seeing for the first time with the wide eyes of a child. I couldn't understand every word she said but to watch her soaking up so many new sights and sounds is a process I never tire of. She watched carefully as her Dada baited the hook with a wriggling worm and then again as the bobber floated on the water.
     We didn't get any bites at the first spot and I commented to Danny that this would not be good if the fish didn't bite so we moved to another spot. The second fishing hole proved to be better. MJ seemed to be interested in the fundamentals of fishing but she didn't want to have much to do with holding the rod or reeling in the fish, she kept giving the rod to me or Danny but she did get excited about the fish we caught.
     Her attention span was that of a two yr. old and she soon decided that she wanted to play with the rod so Danny removed the hook and attached a pink plastic fish. MJ would drop the fish and bobber in the water and pull it out and wave it around proclaiming - I think - that she had caught a fish. She walked around in the confines of the boat which can be tight and I thought a couple of times that we may have to fish her out of the water but when she squirmed thru a tight spot she would stand up and say  with glee that she "did it ".
     Once the fishing petered out we went for a boat ride bouncing across the waves at 35 mph and she sat in Dada's lap without so much as a whimper. We'll make a fisherman out of her yet.
     The day brought back memories of the day I went with Danny and Clay on their first boat ride and fishing trip with my sister Vickie and her husband Larry. I remember the joy and laughter as they held up their first catch, it was, like today, one of those moments of fatherhood that a man knows life doesn't get any better.  There were three generations of the family on the boat today , I will be long gone by the time there is a fourth generation and such an event will happen again, maybe the fish will bite better then but it won't matter because all that will matter will be the sharing of time with people that love each other.
     Later that afternoon I was treated to dinner along with Marie's Mom and Dad, Clay was there and I watched as MJ crawled up into Clays lap for most of the dinner. I held and played with Matthew who will someday go for a ride on Grandpa's boat to catch his first fish and brighten an old man's day.
     The day ended and I went home to a house full of memories and stuffed a new memory into the album of my life, one that I will cherish in a time when all I can do is sit in an old chair looking thru a window remembering the happy times.

The Seventeenth Of June

                                           The Seventeenth of June





     Today is June 17, 2015, it's a Wednesday and for most people it bears no meaning in particular.
In fact it is a very special day because forty eight years ago Linda and I said our vows becoming husband and wife.
     This was always a special day for Linda, it ranked as high as her birthday and I was expected to remember it with flowers, kisses and whispers of "I love you". Like many husbands I occasionally forgot, especially in the early years, and would spend many hours apologizing profusely for the oversight. One year it cost me $300 and a day of planting shrubs she had purchased in lieu of the bouquet I should have purchased.
     Forty eight years is a long time yet when you close your eyes and allow the mind to traverse backwards it only takes a few moments, the memories are fleeting but very clear as if they were only yesterday. Forty eight years filled with laughter and tears, joy and hope and love for each other.
     There will be no celebration today, no flowers, no kisses or whispers of "I love you". I can't hold her and bury my face in her hair and smell her essence which is fast becoming a memory, instead I will spend the day with Marie, MJ and Matthew and Linda's sister Vicki and niece Chelsea. I will hold my grandkids close inhaling the essence of her legacy and know that in them Linda lives on, her blood and mine plus that of thier parents pulses thru their bodies and thru the bodies of those to come, in this respect we are together and always will be. I will spend the day in memory because that is all that is left.
     Happy anniversary Sweetheart, I love you and miss you.